Keep Rollin', Rollin', Rollin' (for Letta)

[CyanDimitrik]

Laxia is a harder nut to crack, Bandita is finding. Not many can claim to be impervious to her sad puppy look. There's some real artistry behind it! It takes a lot to get your way as the eldest of three siblings! But Laxia, she's practically scoffing at her big, pitiful eyes.

Even when she tried reverse psychology! Only parents should ever have such finely tuned deflectors against an attack of this magnitude! And she's pretty sure Laxia would've mentioned it if she had kids! It's downright unfair that she should be so smitten with a girl invulnerable to her wiles! So she has but one option left: assaulting the pride!

...!

Success!

She has to play it cool. Aloof, even! Lest she lose her edge! Worse, if she giggles! So that little nose remains pointed at its superior angle.

"Hmf. I already have," Bandita asserts. "And since you won't wrestle me, you don't get to complain about it."

Without looking, she delicately plucks a fry from a nearby basket. The fry is wagged as she speaks, as if vaguely conducting the matter: "I'll stay queen of 'de beach. And you can just... you know, not have to suffer 'de indignity of being pinned. You just..."

The fry stops wagging. Her eyes open to sly slits, gaze cut askance to the noble.

"...have to admit I would win in a bikini match. And 'den I'll let it go."

[Letta]

Up until now, Laxia had managed to weave her way around every little scheme Bandita had used to tug at her heart. The pleading eyes. The reverse psychology. The shameless teasing. But there was one thing she simply couldn’t let slide. Bandita talking as though pinning her again in their next match was already a foregone conclusion. That was simply incorrect. And when something was incorrect, it needed correcting...! But then.. She already had a beach match with someone..?

Laxia’s thoughts stumbled over that particular detail. Back in the locker room, Bandita had confessed that *something* between them had been a first for her. And now that she thought about it, Bandita had mentioned other things she was experiencing for the first time with Laxia as well. There had been something strangely intimate about the way she spoke of it, about sharing those little firsts with her. Of course, that didn’t necessarily mean she’d never wrestled another woman in a bikini before. Bandita had been wrestling longer than Laxia had, after all. It was perfectly plausible.

And Laxia certainly wasn’t in any position to complain. So why was it bothering her so much? Bandita, wearing a bikini and rolling around with some other woman... Were beach matches really that common around here?

By that point, Bandita’s words had struck far closer to home than Laxia cared to admit, leaving the aristocrat momentarily unable to come up with a proper response. “Th-that...!” Her lips pursed into a decidedly sulky pout. “Who said I wouldn’t wrestle you?! I merely...” Her protest trailed off. Somewhere along the way, Laxia’s attention had become completely fixed on the french fry in Bandita’s hand. Like a puppy waiting for a treat, those large blue eyes followed it from side to side with every little movement of Bandita’s wrist.

Then the fry stopped. So did Laxia’s gaze. And when Bandita finally delivered her condition, the entranced noblewoman jolted as though suddenly waking from a trance and snapped her attention back toward the luchadora. This time with an especially haughty look. “As I said before, you seem to be under some very serious misconception!” Her cheeks puffed ever so slightly. “Do you honestly think pinning me is going to be that easy?” All she had to do was admit that Bandita would win in a bikini match. That was it. End of story. It shouldn’t have been difficult. “Khh...!” For Laxia, apparently, it was.

“I refuse to admit it...!” She folded her arms firmly across her chest again, lifted her chin high, and closed her eyes as though issuing some grand royal decree. A brief silence followed. “Then... I suppose we’ll just have to settle it in the ring.” One blue eye cracked open. “If I pin you... that means I get to take your ‘Queen of the Beach’ title, doesn’t it?” And somehow, without even realizing when it had happened.. Laxia had walked straight back into the palm of Bandita’s hand.

[CyanDimitrik]

This was a whole different kind of fun. The sort that Bandita couldn't possibly have expected to have with her date today. And it even portends their next date, maybe! One in the ring! One that would probably only be romantic specifically for a pair of professional wrestlers. And listening to Laxia work through the challenge, the gauntlet thrown, the proverbial glove slap, it was all delightful. Being a born and bred entertainer came with perks beyond simple showmanship - there's a level of manipulative finesse involved! One Laxia had hitherto seemed impervious against!

Oh, so satisfying, hearing that dam break!

"Ohh?," drawls Bandita when she declares her refusal to admit it. She pops an eyebrow, which happens to have the effect of causing the upper ridge of that side of her mask to lift. She's still looking at her; her being haughty, superior in return. It's precious. Adorable. She may never tell her that, but it's absolutely one of the cutest ways she's ever seen her. Possibly because it's always been brought about by Bandita deliberately being teasing or bratty. It's a part of the game they play, their romance language.

The corner of her lips lift just slightly, but it changes everything about her expression. It is now firmly embedded in the realm of 'smug'.

"If you pin me. If."

Beat.

She suddenly whirls her upper-body to face Laxia, and she's practically pouncing herself at her date's nearest arm to cling. The fry is kept carefully angled away so as to not smush the spud into her hoodie. "It's a date! You better find a nice bikini, too!," she demands. "Because mine looks really good! And- oh! Should we add any stipulations to it?"

She gasps, eyes widening with a sparkly quality. "Should we make it one of 'dose prisoner-of-war ones? Where 'de winner keeps 'de loser?" Her mouth is definitely getting ahead of her head. If she won that, it would mean having to either rent a hotel room, or bringing Laxia home to meet the family in her cramped apartment. The mask would have to come off eventually, because she couldn't expect her family to maintain the charade for her...

[Letta]

Bandita watched Laxia inch closer and closer to the trap she had set without celebrating too soon. No excited outburst. No obvious push. She simply waited with an almost infuriating amount of patience, as though she already knew exactly how this was going to end. Even in the face of Laxia’s firm denial, that smug little look never left Bandita’s face. And it was rapidly eating away at what remained of Laxia’s patience.

“If I...! Pin you...!” She caught herself for a moment, then lifted a brow as she threw Bandita’s own wording right back at her. “Yes. *If*, indeed...!” All Bandita had really done was prod at Laxia’s pride here and there, yet every little prod seemed to push Laxia exactly where the luchadora wanted her to go. “Just you wait. I’m going to pin you...!”

Then Bandita declared it a date as though the matter had already been settled and immediately started talking about finding a nice bikini. Only then did Laxia begin to feel as though she had just signed some sort of contract without bothering to read the fine print. “Wait, the bikini part is still...” But before she could finish, Bandita introduced yet another stipulation.

A POW match. “......Prisoner?” The word seemed to echo strangely in Laxia’s ears. Prisoner. The winner gets to keep the loser. For the briefest moment, a particularly dangerous possibility presented itself. What if, by some absurd stroke of misfortune, Laxia actually lost and ended up as Bandita’s prisoner? Perhaps she might finally discover firsthand why Bandita was so suspiciously skilled with that whip... But that concern was quickly drowned out by a far more compelling thought.

What if she won? She could capture that smug little thief herself. Interrogate her as much as she pleased. Knock that smug little bandit down a peg or two. And most importantly... She might finally get to see what was underneath the mask. “......” That thought alone made Laxia’s heart suddenly beat much faster. Her gaze drifted back toward Bandita’s mask. Slowly, her eyes traced along its edges before settling on those deep hazel-green eyes peering back at her from within.

What did Bandita actually look like without it? If Laxia won... Could she actually order Bandita to take it off? Would it even be fair to ask for something like that? ...No. If Bandita was her prisoner, then technically it wouldn’t be a *request* at all, would it? One thought led into another. By now, the reasons Laxia had been so determined to refuse the match in the first place were becoming considerably less important than the question of what she might be able to demand if she won. Slowly, a grin began to spread across her face. Laxia lifted her chin and met Bandita’s gaze with renewed confidence, looking far more entertained by the proposition now than she had any right to be. “Fine. Bring it on~”

[CyanDimitrik]

Those hazel-green eyes widen further when Laxia drops the word "prisoner". It's titillating. It's scandalous, even! Much like the idea of a bandit wrestling a noble in her debut and pinning her! Or even more, a bandit stealing that very noble's heart! Ah, the telenovellas they could star in! Though it didn't exactly take much time for the two of them to become an item, swept in a whirlwind romance; the likes of which Bandita has eagerly thrown herself into. Not something she ever would've expected from herself, but the heart wants what it wants. And her little heart is beating like a hummingbird for Laxia. Especially in this moment.

There's that confident air. Not quite aloof, not menacing, just.. confident. Self-assured. Regal. Beautiful. And it accompanies the wonderful sound of a challenge accepted. Laxia is rewarded with a happy, girlish squeal, smile broadened, eyes squeezed shut, and fists raised to frame her cheeks. She wouldn't want this with anyone else. Because she's very, very tacitly aware of how dangerous this prospect is, and how... loaded... the stipulation may seem. And to be fair, it totally is. Should she win, she absolutely intends to use it for a romantic date night with her, to get to know her, to spend as much time together as they want to.

Before either getting a hotel room or going back to her apartment. Whatever, awkwardness can happen later! The main thing is wrestling with her again, in something she can secretly admit to herself is sexy, and winning a date with her for it!

The luchadora is a sudden forward burst of motion, attempting to wrap her arms around Laxia's neck. In the same motion, she's rushing in for a kiss - bold, firm, utterly joyful. And should all of that connect, Laxia may be stuck with Bandita's arms looping her neck even after the kiss breaks in favor of keeping her face intimately close with the other girl's.

"You're so beautiful when you're fiery," Bandita purrs to her, gaze half-lidded and voice softened. "It looks so natural on you. Fearless. Confident."

A hand will be spared specifically for the purpose of gingerly hooking a couple fingers at Laxia's bangs to draw them away from her eyes.

"Is' hard to look away. How did a girl like me get someone like you, ah?"

[Letta]

Laxia had barely finished accepting the challenge when Bandita let out a delighted squeal, fists raised near her cheeks and eyes squeezed shut in excitement. The sight was so openly, unmistakably girlish that Laxia could only smile and watch her for a moment. Whenever she was with Bandita, Laxia could finally set aside the weight of reality for a little while. The responsibilities, the problems waiting for her, the constant awareness of how others saw her. Around Bandita, she could let it all fall away and simply feel like a girl her own age. Granted, considering the match she had just agreed to and what the winner would be entitled to afterward, things were likely to become considerably less ordinary...

Still, if anyone else had made such an absurd proposal, Laxia would have rejected it without a second thought. But Bandita was different. Before Laxia could dwell on that, Bandita suddenly surged forward, wrapping both arms around her neck and pressing their lips together.

“...!”

Laxia’s eyes widened. One hand instinctively caught Bandita at the waist while the other hovered uselessly in surprise, but only for a moment. Her lashes lowered, the tension slipped from her shoulders, and she leaned in to return the kiss with unexpected warmth. Even after their lips parted, neither moved far. Bandita’s arms remained looped around her neck, their faces close enough to share the same breath, and every soft word that followed seemed to brush against Laxia’s lips all over again. Beautiful, fearless, and confident... Laxia’s gaze slipped shyly to the side under Bandita’s praise.

“Th-thank you...”

In the world of high society, where money, influence, rivalries, and quiet power struggles were never far away, confidence and fearlessness were necessities. Never show weakness. Never look shaken. Always appear in control. Yet the girl standing here now looked nothing like the haughty young noblewoman who had been holding her chin high moments earlier. Bandita had a way of slipping past Laxia’s carefully built defenses with almost insulting ease, catching glimpses of the far more unguarded girl behind them. But with Bandita, Laxia found she didn’t mind at all.

Then came the question. How did a girl like me get someone like you? Laxia studied her for a moment before the corners of her lips curled upward. “Oh, I can tell you exactly how.” One arm remained around Bandita’s waist as she adopted an exaggeratedly serious expression and began counting off the offenses. “You beat me in my debut. Stole a kiss before I could properly recover. Talked me into going on a date with you...” Her eyes narrowed playfully. “And now you’ve somehow talked me into a bikini match where the winner gets to take the loser prisoner.” A tiny huff escaped through her nose. “When you put it all together, you really have been behaving like a bandit from the very beginning.”

But the teasing smile soon softened. Laxia met those hazel-green eyes again, the arm around Bandita’s waist tightening ever so slightly. “But if you’re asking why I’m still here...” Her voice grew quieter. “That part wasn’t something you stole.” This time, she didn’t retreat behind another joke. “I stayed because I wanted to.” A brief silence followed before mischief crept back into her eyes.

“But...” She leaned a little closer, her smile taking on a more dangerous edge. “I think you just gave me one more very good reason to make sure I win that match.” Her gaze held Bandita’s. “After all... if I manage to capture a bandit...” She let the words hang for a beat. “Then I suppose it’ll finally be my turn to steal a few things from her~~”

[CyanDimitrik]

The sigh that escapes Bandita is wistful, carrying the thin vocalization of a girl caught in dreamy state. People don't just speak well of her like this; at least, not fans. And fans don't count! Not really. They're enamored because she's fast, confident, and strong! Take the girl out of the ring, and would they even think twice about her? Would she even register? So hearing this on the off-hours from a non-fan has her heart throbbing. She's practically basking in the glow of her listed exploits, the fresh memories of fighting with her, pinning her down so dominantly, taking that impulsive kiss from her. Then when they were together afterwards...

Oh, the memory of seeing Laxia's body wrapped in that gorgeous wrestling gear; athleticism and refinement, a warrior princess, and all hers.

"Mm'how could you steal something when I'm ready to give it to you for free~?," she coos back to her, gaze half-lidded and dazed smile playing on her face. One of them is generally guarded with her emotions. The other is a romantic sap.

"Do you have a suit already? Or do I get to find something with you~? Or is it a surprise?," she asks. "Have you seen my suit? I think it's pretty cool. And it won't, um, have mishap or anything." As she continues to babble, she leans forward and tilts her head to begin rubbing her cheek on her shoulder. Dolling into her. Just as she had when Laxia nearly fell over. "Just not a one-piece. One-piece is cheating. Forbidden. Has to be a bikini. Because you have 'de hottest tummy," she continues.

[Letta]

“Being given something and winning it for myself are... d-different...!”

Laxia replied primly, lifting her chin and turning her face aside once more. She tried to compose herself and cool the blush brought on by Bandita’s annoyingly airtight logic, but what came next only made matters worse.

“H-help me pick one...?!” Her head snapped back toward Bandita. “I have plenty of swimsuits...! I-I’ll choose one myself...!” The mere thought of bikini shopping with Bandita kept the color stubbornly in her cheeks. Then Bandita mentioned her own swimsuit, and Laxia’s thoughts naturally wandered in that direction instead. “No... I haven’t seen it.” A mishap? What did she mean by that? What kind of swimsuit required a warning like that? Before she knew it, one bikini after another was flashing through Laxia’s mind. Something colorful. Something sporty. Perhaps something as bold as Bandita’s wrestling gear...

“......”

Laxia gave her head a quick shake before her imagination could become any more specific. She had just started considering which of her own swimsuits she might wear when Bandita firmly declared that a one-piece was forbidden. At that, Laxia lifted her chin with a small, almost offended huff, as though that much should have been obvious. “O-of course! I do have some taste, you kno-” Then came Bandita’s final comment. Because you have the hottest tummy.

“......!”

The words died instantly in Laxia’s throat. Heat rushed across her face. Suddenly, the bare strip of stomach she hadn’t thought twice about all evening felt impossibly exposed, and one hand reflexively dropped to cover it. “Ughh...” This time, simply turning her face away wasn’t going to hide the blush.